


only thinking about touch

by kusemono (Glitchgoat)



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28832703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitchgoat/pseuds/kusemono
Summary: "You're free to move.""Move me yourself."
Relationships: Mikage Hisoka/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	only thinking about touch

"Have you been eating concrete."

"Stop whining."

"I'll whine as much as I damn well please."

Hisoka rolls his eyes pointedly -- so pointedly that even though his back is against Chikage's front and thus Chikage cannot actually see his face, Chikage can imagine it perfectly in his mind's eye -- and then, unsurprisingly, makes no move to move off of Chikage's lap. In fact, he doubles down, allowing himself to go ragdoll limp, dropping the back of his head onto Chikage's shoulder.

"You make an awful pillow," Hisoka says a moment later, turning his head so he's speaking, half-muffled, into the crook of Chikage's neck.

Chikage really needs to accept that any time he’s sitting down, there's a non-zero chance Hisoka will insinuate himself. Who knows? Maybe he could have been doing important work. He could have been taking a moment’s rest before heading out on business. Hell, he could simply have been trying to enjoy a moment to himself in his room while Chikasaki is away.

But no.

He made the mistake of sitting on the couch and not locking the door, and that – apparently – makes his lap prime real estate for the taking.

"You're free to move."

"Move me yourself."

Chikage clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and presses his teeth together on an inhale. He shifts halfheartedly, doesn't actually put any effort into dislodging Hisoka, and gives up in record time. Hisoka smirks against his throat.

"Smug bastard," Chikage mutters matter-of-factly.

"Yep."

He only gets smugger when Chikage slides his arms around his midsection – and, really, Chikage only makes that choice because it's more comfortable than his arms resting stiffly at his sides. Chikage rolls his eyes in turn and rests his chin on Hisoka's shoulder, and Hisoka hums in a terribly self-satisfied way that Chikage is gracious enough not to comment on.

Yes. Gracious. Let’s call it that.

Hisoka shifts a bit – he complains, only half-using words, about Chikage being uncomfortable as a pillow. Chikage knows better than to try and argue the point any further and allows him to wriggle, tightening his grip around him to—

Keep him from moving around too much and, for instance, elbowing Chikage in the stomach. Yes. That, and nothing else, is the reason he pulls Hisoka back against him when he starts moving too much.

Hisoka lifts his head and huffs through his nose, mumbling something about _hard._ Presumably, he’s talking about Chikage’s shoulder or chest or lap.

Presumably.

Chikage would never _assume_. Never—not even when Hisoka’s shifting as though to get comfortable takes on a different timbre, less moving around and trying to rest his head at a comfortable angle, more rocking his hips against Chikage’s lap.

Whether this was Hisoka’s original intention or one that occurred to him only after he invited himself onto Chikage’s lap— Chikage resigns himself to the possibility that he might never know. He can’t bring himself to care too much one way or the other, either, especially once Hisoka sheds his pants and resumes grinding on Chikage’s clothed erection, because of course he’s getting hard. Even if Hisoka’s clear satisfaction with himself is—

… Well. Chikage would love to say that it’s an impediment, but it’s quite the opposite. Every smug smile that he can feel against his throat just makes Chikage consider shoving his fingers into Hisoka’s mouth more and more.

This is a fight with himself that he loses, and he’s glad for it. Chikage taps two fingers against Hisoka’s mouth, and his lips part with minimal effort to allow the invading digits. As he presses the pads of his fingers against Hisoka’s tongue, which meets them happily, his other hand drifts down to push up the bottom of Hisoka’s too-large shirt. He slides his hand up Hisoka’s thigh, ignoring his half-hard dick, and wanders between his legs.

And it turns out, he actually gets an answer to the question of whether or not this was Hisoka’s original intention, because there’s already a slick mess between his legs, smeared haphazardly around his hole. He’s spent some degree of effort getting himself ready— impressive, if only because _anything_ warranting effort on his part is impressive.

“Really?” Chikage says, and Hisoka practically grins around his fingers; though he doesn’t form actual words, the hummed cadence of _are you complaining?_ is unmistakable.

He supposes he isn’t, but he still snorts a dry, humorless laugh through his nose and pulls both the hand away from Hisoka – making sure to brush just-so against his dick as his hand passes, and no more – and the hand out of his mouth.

“Move your ass.” He swats at Hisoka’s outer thigh to punctuate his point.

“Jerk. You could just ask,” Hisoka says with a pout that is far more infuriating than it is endearing. (Right.)

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

Chikage realizes only as he awkwardly shucks his own pants off just far enough to get his dick free of them that he’s harder than he thought he was, and if Hisoka notices, he doesn’t make any smug comments about it—which means he didn’t think twice about it, or, worse, isn’t surprised by it.

As Hisoka arranges himself and lines himself up before letting his head fall back onto Chikage’s shoulder; Chikage’s hands comes to rest on his hips, not grabbing so much as guiding. He’s not going to give Hisoka the satisfaction. (He absolutely will, but not yet.)

Hisoka eases himself down onto Chikage's cock with a familiar practiced ease, picking up and dropping back down gradually in a way that reads less as taking his time adjusting and more as taking his time to see if he can get a reaction out of Chikage. (Perhaps Chikage is just imagining that, but it would hardly be out of character.)

He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should have preparing himself; he’s not surprised that Hisoka only put a half-effort into it. He’s also not complaining, per se. They’ve done more with less, and—

Well. He’d be stupid to _complain_ about the way Hisoka tightens around his dick, slides down and draws back up and threatens to pull off entirely.

"You're free to move," Chikage says, knowing full well the answer he's going to get.

Hisoka does not disappoint, and he hums dully, rocking his hips experimentally -- just a little -- before he settles back down and says: "move me yourself."

Chikage snorts a dry, humorless laugh through his nose; he knows full well – from experience, at that – that Hisoka would be entirely content to sit on his lap doing nothing, that he might even fall asleep there (and then complain the next day about being sore).

Nonetheless, he loops an arm under Hisoka's knees so he can pull them back up against his chest.

He's really not that heavy.

**Author's Note:**

> hey look i can write things that are longer than 200 words  
> not my most exciting work i know but i just wanted to write some of this dynamic because it is still my jam ✌️😗✌️ and ive got smth else in the pipeline and i like to fire off smth less heavy (heh) while i work on things like that
> 
> twt [@glitchgoats](https://twitter.com/glitchgoats). not doing them right now but i periodically take requests for ~250 word prompts on curiouscat so if you follow me you'll know when im doing them. how exciting  
> i only accept anon hate in the form of blank verse. iambic pentameter or bust
> 
> thx to carp for helping making this a little more coherent


End file.
